Choices That Change Us
by SuperxXxGirl79
Summary: Derek Venturi's life is messed up. After a disastrous and heartbreaking summer, he turns to drugs to give him comfort. But he also has a secret.... possibly even more than one secret...starts off as one big one-shot, but will add chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Ok, this is my first LWD fan fiction, so if you can't be nice...aw what the hell just review! I Would also like to say that the idea of Dasey with Casey falling in the lake is NOT MINE!!!!!! That idea is totally and rightfully owned/thought up originally by ilovejonas22 in their story Hanging By A Moment. I just sort of wanted to do a Flashback and see what would happen, from what I thought should happen. That probably didn't make much sense, but hopefully, you get what I'm saying.**

**I didn't know how else to post this, so it's gonna be a giant one-shot.**

**Disclaimer: I d-d-don't own L-Life With D-Derek!! Wah!!!! *cry, sob* I also don't own ilovejonas22's story ideas (though i wish i did) or Camp Greenlake, because Camp Greenlake is from Holes. Are these people trying to make me sad?!**

Choices That Change Us

By: SuperxXxGirl79

PROLOGUE

I'll put this bluntly- I'm messed up. I'm messed up for a number of reasons: being on drugs, dealing drugs, and, oh yeah, running like hell away from some police officers. You are probably wondering how I got here, and why the hell I'm on drugs. I guess I'll just start from the beginning...this is my story.

Oh and I may still be a bit high, but I do have a name. It's Derek. Derek Venturi.

CHAPTER 1

If someone were to ask me what I did this summer I would have a hell of a story. It's a true story, but of course, they wouldn't believe me. The only people I have told the truth to have been Sam and Ralph. They didn't believe me either when i say I almost died this summer. But then again, they heard that from my dad while i was in the hospital. They came to me later for details. Ok, so here goes:

My dad sent me to summer camp this year. I thought it was going to suck, until i met this amazing girl! Wow she was hot! Long brown hair, and bright blue eyes. The first time i saw her, i almost fell off my seat in the cafeteria. Shock of the century...

Anyways, I asked her out, and we dated for pretty much the whole summer. I really like this girl. I think i might even l...lo....love her. Her name is Casey. Casey McDonald.

But then, there was the day that ruined my life.

I was hanging out with some guys in my cabin, and Casey was hanging out with some of her friends. I heard a scream, and then i saw Casey fall off the dock and into the water. She hit her head as she fell in. I didn't even stop to think what the hell i was doing, i just jumped into the water.

And let me say, that water was fucking cold!

Back to the story: I jumped into the water, and i swam around trying to find Casey. I had only taken one breath and had to search for her for about a minute. That doesn't sound like that much, but that is a LONG time to hold your breath, especially when you're panicking about where the fuck your _unconscious girlfriend_ is!

I eventually found her, pretty deep down. I had to manoeuvre my way through some seaweed to get her, but i did. Then, just my luck, when i got near the surface, my foot got stuck. I pushed her up and someone took her. I was just gonna bend down to unhook my foot. But i had sunk farther than i apparently thought. Not only was my other foot stuck as well, but my wet clothes were weighing me down, and i didn't know which way was up. I also gasped in a bunch of water when i realized this. I was almost unconscious when someone grabbed me and hauled me out. I blacked out before i was out of the water.

When i woke up later in the hospital, they told me that she had been air-lifted to a hospital closer to her home town, which wasn't very close to mine. They wouldn't even tell me that she was okay, and since i couldn't move without bringing myself a hell of a lot of pain, i couldn't go find someone who would tell me. Finally, after about five tries of getting up out of bed, my dad went and asked someone. That was when they told me that she had lost her memory of us, of the summer...and that she was already gone.

This was the summer that I started doing drugs. I met a dealer, and he soon became a very close friend. We've been in a few gang fights, and i've come home with unexplained bruises and cuts. They aren't usually that bad. The barfing is pretty much an after-affect i have when i use heroin. It almost never ends, but hey...there's a price for getting high, and it doesn't just come out of your pocket, it comes out of your stomach too.

For a while after I got out of the hospital, and even now, i can't hold down that much food sometimes. But my dad, and the doctors don't know why. No one knows why. It's not like i'm going to TELL them i'm on drugs ! I mean, come on, what are you, retarded? They just know that I'm losing weight and am a little pale at times. It's something I like to keep to myself. One time Edwin walked in on me throwing up in the bathroom and told dad. I had to pretend that I had a stomach bug for a couple days. I've started locking the bathroom door and trying to keep it down (no pun intended).

The only person I can't fool with that is Sam. He walked in on me puking in the guys washroom after lunch once. I had skipped lunch at school to go out back and have a smoke. I didn't know what to tell him, because "i have the flu 99% of the time" sounds just as bad as "oh well i was just doing drugs out back instead of having lunch".

He said i should go to a doctor, but hell will freeze over before i do that. They'll find out and then the doctor will tell my dad and then my dad will send me to rehab. Then again, he might not even give a shit. But they could also find out i've been dealing. That could be difficult to explain.

Anyways, that- the accident, not seeing Casey, starting drugs- all happened in August. In October, my dad started dating some woman named Nora. I didn't think much of it. I thought the last name was a coincident, just like i thought the fact that she had a daughter my age named Casey, and another daughter Edwin's age was a coincident.

I didn't think much of it when Dad asked Nora to marry him. It didn't bother me that I had never met the woman or her kids. I always managed to make plans when dad invited them over, or they went over there. But, of course i couldn't get out of the wedding. I was forced to wear a tux (but i still wore my runners. Dress shoes are going too far) which was bad enough, but who did i see when i looked at the brides maids?

Casey.

My Casey.

The Casey who I saved from drowning. The Casey that i love and that doesn't remember that we dated and i told her i loved her. My first instinct (which i followed) was to run. People called after me, but i kept of running. I went and had a cigarette (nothing funny, just straight cigarette. The last thing i needed was to have my angry father find out i was high). I came back about 20 minutes before the ceremony started. My dad yelled at me for a couple minutes, before just telling me to stay there. He kind of gave up on getting mad and grounding me a long time ago, because it never works. I just sneak out to some party, or stay at Pete's if i'm pissed off enough.

The McDonald's have since moved in with us, and I have learned to be out of the house as much as humanly possible. Either that or I'm locked in my room with my stereo (high tech, courtesy of drug money) blasting at top volume. They have gotten used to me and dad fighting and yelling at each other. They were shocked the first couple of times, but now i guess they're used to it. Like so many other things.

So that is why today, I'm in a back alley. I'm meeting my friend Pete. Pete is a drug dealer. I am too. We're known, but we still make them meet us in a back alley, far away from any roads, and extremely dark. That way they can't see our faces. If anyone ever saw me, it would get around that "Derek Venturi deals drugs". Then i would be kicked off the hockey team, making my team losers. Plus my dad would find out.

Everything – my rep, hockey, school – would be shot. Capoot. Done. No more.

"Yo, D!" Speak of the devil...

"Sup, Pete?" I answer my friend's call, as we bump fists. I take down the hood on my baggy sweatshirt, revealing a flat-billed had. Pete is dressed pretty much the same as me. Baggy jeans, baggy hoodies, hat that covers your face. It's like an unspoken dress code for people like us.

"You going to the party tonight? We can make some pretty sweet deals there."

"Hell yes! So we gonna head out now, or smoke something first? Come on man, did u bring the shit?" I answer. I REALLY want to smoke some pot, meth anything right now! Even just straight up cigarettes. To answer the question that i know is burning in your mind right now, I don't know if i feel good or bad about doing drugs. I don't put much thought into it. I'm addicted, and when you're addicted to something, you don't think about it.

"Alright, alright, chill, i got it!" Pete answers and throws me a pack of cigs and some pot. I light up a cigarette, and so does he. "Listen, you got your ID? Cuz if they ID us, and we got nothing, we're gonna look like total ASSES in front of everyone. And you know how much L.J. would like that." Oh yeah, we have fake ID's that say we're 18. Even though we're both only 15. Really, i forgot to mention that before? Oops...

"Yeah, i got it," i reply. "Listen, we better not take a heavy dose till we get to the party. I bet L.J. would like it if we didn't even show up, huh? And besides, if the plan is gonna go down right, we gotta beat him there " I laugh shortly. And before you ask, L.J. is our #1 enemy. He's not even dealer, but it's pretty much him and his nameless sidekick, against me and Pete. We always win the gang fights. They normally just end up as fist-fights, but Pete and I both carry guns, just in case. They're loaded, and we try not to use them, because it draws unwanted attention to the fight. But then again, you do lots of things when you're high.

Pete and I head out, taking the dark streets and alleys, walking down them like we own them. Which is pretty much true. We own the drug addicted, underground world. We make some pretty sweet cash by dealing drugs. People will pay ANYTHING to get some crack before _they_ crack.

When we get to the building that the party is in, everyone says hi to us when we walk in the door. It's like i said, we own this world. Both of us are immediately busy dealing out our "selection". As I do the fourth deal or so, i light up a joint. The music is blaring and everyone is jumping. I hand over some meth to one of my customers I look over and see someone lying on the floor who just over dosed. We all just ignore it. We usually do. It sounds kind of bad, but once you've seen it so many times, you get used to it.

"Yo, D Dawg, how we 'doin so far?" Pete asks as he comes over to me. He has a stack of cash in his hands too. We're both getting pretty high from the pot and crack we've been smoking while we're dealing. We have a strategy that if we smoke some while we're dealing, even people who have tried (and obviously failed) to quit will come and buy some.

And it works.

Just then my cell phone rings. I look at the caller ID. Sam. I ignore it. Fuck... I hate it when he calls me at times like this. Him and Ralph don't know that I do drugs. They just know that I don't hang around with them outside of school that much anymore. The reason is simple: When I'm at school, I'm "Derek Venturi" player, captain of the hockey team, popular, and leather-jacket wearing. When I'm dealing drugs, I'm "D", "D-Dawg", "Triple D" . I'm the second half of a pair of people who are the rulers of the underground. When i'm like this, I'm mysterious, hooded, high, stoned, and secretive.

I really don't know what I am at home. I don't hang around there much. It's not a terrible place to be...it's just not the best. I keep my hood up when i'm there. My dad, Edwin and Marti have learned that i keep it up, even if they tell me not to.

Casey doesn't get that. I ignore her practically all the time, and yet, when she first moved in, i told my dad i was spending the night at Pete's. I did...we did some drugs, got high, hit up a few parties on the block, the usual.

The next day I came in just in time for dinner. I had my hood up with my hat on, just like always. Except that day i leaned down further so my family couldn't see my face, not even a little bit. Truth be told, Pete and I had gotten into a fight with L.J. and his sidekick. I beat the shit out of L.J. before Pete could pull me off of him. L.J. got some decent punches in as well, so i had dark circles under my eyes from the drugs, a cut under my eye, and a split lip. L.J. looked a hell of a lot worse. Anyways, i came in and sat down. The family had already started eating, so I just slouched and joined them...

***FLASHBACK***

I walked through the door, letting it shut behind me. I didn't greet anyone when I came through the door, even though this was the first time I had seen the McDonalds' since the wedding. My hood was pulled down over my face, and that, along with my hat covered the damage from partying with Pete and the fight with L.J. very well.

Everyone was already eating. I just slouched into my chair to join them. Everyone was quiet, until my dad spoke up, that is.

"Where have you been?" He said harshly, setting down his fork and knife. I didn't reply, just took another bite of food, without even acknowledging that he had spoken. I do that all the time, and i'm good at it. "I asked you a question Derek." Ok, he's pissed off. Why do i give a damn?

"With a friend," was all i said.

My dad didn't say anything because I always say that when I've been with Pete. Dinner went on like this. I didn't look up at all. I couldn't. I couldn't just look up and see Casey there, when she doesn't remember me...doesn't remember us....

"Derek, take off your hood at the table" again, i ignored what my dad said, didn't even look up. He's asked me that plenty of times before. I don't ever listen.

"Ugh!" i heard Casey say beside me. Then, she had the nerve to put my hood down. AND take my hat off. She gasped when she saw my face. I glared at her. "S-s-sorry, i h-had no idea...." she trailed off under the force of my glare. I'm guessing my eyes are still pretty darkened.

I looked up because I could feel everybody staring at me. Nora, Lizzie, my Dad, even Edwin and Marti were staring at me in shock.

"What?!" I practically yelled it at them. My dad had a serious expression on. This should be good...

"Derek, why do you have scratches on your face?" He said it tiredly, because, duh he's asked me questions like this lots. He never gets much of an answer. Or he gets the same answer. Tonight i chose to stay silent and stare him down. "Derek answer me." I looked around.

Everyone was still staring at me in shock. Seriously, don't these people get it?! I don't want people staring at me like i'm a fucking animal at the zoo.

I glared at Casey. She looked frightened. Good, serves the little bitch right. If i can't be happy neither should she. She deserves it because she forgot me...

I got up from the table and stomp my way up the stairs to my room. I kept my hands in my pockets so none of the drugs or my gun fall out. I never bring anything more than that when i stay with Pete.

I forgot to mention that i not only do drugs, i drink too. Beer. Sometimes a little Vodka or Tequila, but mostly just beer.

When i got to my room, i went under my bed and pulled out a cooler that i hid there. I pulled out a beer from it and climbed out my window. That sounds strange, but it's not.

There's a flat expanse of roof that starts just to the right of my window. It's at the very top of the house, and it faces the back, so no one can see me. I go up there to drink and do drugs when i'm at home. But I have to watch how much I drink and stuff at home, because if i'm drunk, i could blurt out to my dad that i deal drugs. Or Edwin. And if i'm high...i could hurt them.

I really don't want to hurt them. I stopped talking to my dad a long time ago. I mean i will still say the occasional thing to him, but i pretty much leave it at that. It's similar with Edwin, but that's more because he's afraid of me. And Marti... *sigh*.... I don't talk to her much in front of the family, but when she's having nightmares, i go and comfort her, or when she can't get to sleep, i stay with her until she can. I mean, none of them really get along with me that well...but they're still family. My mom is still family, too, even though she hates me.

***FLASHBACK***

I'm brought out of my little memory-fest by my cell phone ringing again. I sigh and wave Pete over.

"Listen," i say, frustrated. " I gotta call one of my friends back. He's been calling me and if i don't answer it, my cover could go down the tube. Cover for me. I'll be back in ten minutes tops."

" 'Kay, just don't stay outside too long. You gotta be IN the door by the time L.J. decides to try and 'make an entrance'" he says the last part with mockery.

"Yeah, we gotta go confront him, and be like "I sure hope yo mama ain't as ugly as you, cuz if she was she's either a dude, or dead!'" I laugh it up with Pete and then head out into the back alley. My phone rings and its Sam. AGAIN! Jeez Sam, don't you ever give up.

"Hey Sammy," i say as i open the phone.

"Hey Derek," Sam says. "Why didn't you answer your phone? Never mind. I called your house and they said you've been gone since Friday when you left for school. I know you ditched Friday, but where have you been?"

Fuck... "Uh, Friday my dad and I had another yelling match, so I left and I'm, uh, staying with a friend downtown."

Oh, well that's fun, i think Sam just spit out whatever he was drinking. "Downtown?! Do you know what kind of people hang out downtown? That is the shittiest place you could be! The police have found dead BODIES down there! And guess what? They're all from drug overdose! There's a bunch of high people running around down there..." he stopped when he caught on that i was laughing at him. I'm laughing simply because of the irony of it all. But he thinks i'm laughing because he's being too paranoid. Ok, so i'm laughing at that too.

"Sam," i said, still smiling. "You worry too much. I'll be fine!"

"Yo D!! He's two blocks away, come on get in here!" thanks for the timing Pete. Really, I'm grateful.

"Yeah I'm coming, just chill!" i shout back.

"Who was that?" Sam asks.

" My friend. Listen I gotta go, bye." Shit, i gotta hurry up, L.J.'s almost here! I swear if i miss this...

"But what does he mean-" i hung up before he could finish. I quickly walked back into the building.

"Alright, our lookouts say he was two blocks away about two minutes ago. You ready for this?" Pete asked me seriously.

" Hell to the yes! I do NOT wanna miss a chance to show L.J. and his sidekick who's boss." I replied. I smiled evilly. This is gonna be GOOD.

"You got your gun loaded?"

"Like I said, hell to the yes. I'm ready. Let's do this." I told Pete. See, Pete taught me everything he knows, but I am a natural born schemer. So, i pretty much plan these things. And I've only been in the business for about 8 months. I'm pretty damn good for a rookie.

Just as expected, L.J. walked through the door, pushing everybody aside, because he thinks he can. There's something you have got to understand: L.J. has a reason for thinking he's powerful. He can be damn scary if he wants to be. He's African-American, about six feet tall, bald head with a bandana on it. He's got scary arms, so he wears vests, or wife beaters a lot.

Over-all, i'm about the same size he is. And i'm a hell of a lot stronger. Besides, Pete's no wimp. He's only about two inches shorter than me, but he's strong. We're both white boys, but it's not like that makes a difference.

"Hey, Loss of Joy, what brings you here?!" I shout to get his attention. Pete smirks: this is going exactly as planned. People turn to watch me and Pete confront L.J.... and they all cheer as soon as I say my line.

L.J.'s just glaring at me. "Shut up!" he says.

I cringe back in mock fear. "Oh, that's NOT what L.J. stands for?" People laugh and cheer. It feels good to be the boss. "Man, I hope yo mama ain't as ugly as you, cuz if she is, she's either a dude, or dead, man."

Then L.J. is up in my face.

"Watch it, Venturi." He says.

"Is that supposed to scare me, bitch?" People are 'ooh-ing' now. Instead of a smirk I've taken on an intimidating expression and now i'm all up in HIS face.

"Shut up, Venturi!" He takes a swing at my head. I duck and give him a gut punch. It hits right on target. He shoves me and I hit a wall. I shove him right back and he goes flying. People back up and let him hit the ground. "Son of a bitch!"

"You ask for an ass whoopin, we sure as hell don't wanna disappoint you, now do we?" Pete says mockingly. L.J. lunges at him, but i stick my foot out and he trips. He regains his balance and grabs me by the front of my shirt. I shove him off and the fight is full on. People are chanting: "FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT!!!" It's energizing.

Damn! L.J. scratches three deep cuts on my right cheek. I punch him in the nose and am happy to see it bleed. Then he does something I wouldn't have expected, even from him.

He pulls his gun on me. I stop a second.

"You better re-think your strategies!" he says. He's pointing his gun at my chest. Right where my heart is. Fuck! I just pull my own gun and do the same. He looks shocked for a moment. That's all I need. I flick my eyes over to Pete, who punches L.J. in the back of the head. He goes down. Knocked out cold. People are cheering and chanting. I put my gun away and give L.J. one last kick in the face.

Pete and I stand side by side and pump up the crowd. I put both arms above my head like i do when i score a goal in hockey. _Maybe some things have more in common with each other than you'd think..._

"Yea!!!" I hear Pete screaming. I walk over and we bump fists. Just like that, the party is in full swing. Me and Pete head out the back, to walk down the street from the back alley, so we can get out before L.J. wakes up.

"Just as planned, right man?" I say.

"Yeah, D-Dawg! Do you know how long I have wanted to punch that lousy bitch? Since the last fight! And I didn't even get to hit him that time!" We both laugh and head back down the street.

* * *

I go around the back of my house, sneaking under the living room window like always. I go up to the wall just under my window. I climb up the boarding and heave myself through my open window.

Wait what?! I didn't leave my window open...Shit...

Just as i make it in my window, i find my dad and Nora waiting for me. Busted. I've gotten away with them up until now. My dad gave up on punishing me, but it still sucks when you get caught.

"Derek," my dad stands there with his arms crossed and he is staring at me. Nora looks similar to that.

"Derek, would you like to explain to us where you have been?" Nora says calmly, but i can hear the anger in her voice.

"Why?" i answer. "You're not my mom." I say things like this because it's true. Why the fuck should i have to explain to HER a STRANGER where i've been?!

"DEREK MICHAEL VENTURI!! YOU WILL NOT SPEAK TO HER THAT WAY!!" Dad yells this in my face, but my eyelids stay half closed and i don't acknowledge that he yelled. I can see him getting pissed off. Oh look, he's gonna yell again. "DEREK I HAVE HAD IT WITH YOU! YOU COME HOME LATE, YOU DITCH SCHOOL, YOU'RE FAILING ALMOST EVERY CLASS.... I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH YOU ANYMORE! I OUGHT TO SEND YOU TO MILITARY SCHOOL!" Ok, now he's starting to piss me off! I may still be half-high, but i will not be talked to like i'm four!

"YOU WANNA KNOW THE TRUTH?!" i yell. i. Am. Pissed.

"YES! FOR ONCE DEREK I WANT TO KNOW THE TRUTH!" my dad yells.

" YEAH, WELL HERE IT IS: MOM HATES ME AND ALWAYS DID! NORA'S NOT MY MOM! I DON'T CARE IF SHE'S TRYING, IT'S NOT THE SAME THING! I GREW UP WITHOUT A MOM AND I'VE BEEN GOING THROUGH _HELL_ SINCE AUGUST AND YOU DON'T GIVE A DAMN!" I take a step closer to my dad, poking him hard in the chest. Nora is backed up against the wall in shock. This is the first time i notice that the door is open. The whole family can probably hear us, but at this point i really don't care.

"What?" Dad looks taken aback. "What happened in August?"

"WHAT HAPPENED IN AUGUST?!" i'm even past furious now. Like he doesn't know what happened in August. "WHAT HAPPENED IN AUGUST?! OH YEAH I FORGOT, YOU WERE TOO BUSY WITH YOUR OWN FUCKIN' LIFE TO REMEMBER THAT I ALMOST _DIED_ SAVING A GIRL WHO I FELL IN LOVE WITH!!! BUT THEN AGAIN YOU WERE THE ONE WHO SENT ME AWAY TO SUMMER CAMP SO YOU WOULDN'T GET IT, WOULD YOU?! YOU WOULDN'T GET THAT I'M GOING THROUGH HELL BECAUSE I SAVED MY GIRLFRIEND FROM DROWNING AND NEVER GOT TO SEE HER AGAIN! YOU WOULDN'T CARE THAT THAT KILLED ME INSIDE! SHE DOESN'T EVEN REMEMBER ME, DAD! She doesn't remember anything..." i say the last part in a deadly low voice, while still glaring at him. My dad is speechless. I've actually rendered George Venturi speechless. Then he turns angry again.

Dad storms out of my room. Nora looks at me sadly and then turns and leaves. I stand looking at the doorway for a moment or two. I feel sick still from my last dose of heroin. I give it a few moments before exiting my room.

Shit.

When i leave my room, Casey is standing there staring at me in shock. I probably have a surprised or shocked look on my face. I really don't care. It's not good that she heard and saw the fight. That's one of the worst ones I've had with my dad.

"Derek..." she chokes out. I think she's too shocked still. Seriously get over it.

My eyes turn dark at memories of THAT summer. Of us together. Of her saying my name in a much different way.

"Derek," she tries again, a little steadier. "Derek, i don't think your mom _hates_ you..."

"Oh and you would know, right?" i spat. I told her about my mom during that summer. "Perfect little Casey McDonald! You wouldn't know about anything bad or unhappy EVER,even if you TRIED so you and your perfect little "loving family" life can just shut up!" She looks confused. Maybe I don't make a hell of a lot of sense when I'm high.

"What?"she says

"You heard what i said," i mumbled, turning away.

"No, I wanna know what you meant when you said my "happy little, loving family life"." She looks offended. Good.

I want to respond, i really do. But the heroin after-effects are coming too quickly. My vision is going slightly black on the corners. I clutch my head and lean heavily on the wall. DAMN this hurts!

"Derek?" Casey's concerned voice sounds like it's a mile away.

This has never happened to me. Then i remember. I had a beer and used heroin right after that.

"Fuck..." i say faintly.

"Watch your language!" Casey scolds naturally.

It takes me a minute, but soon everything is back to normal. I let out a breath and quickly walk to the bathroom. I go inside and lock the door, then brace myself for the barfing. Yep, it comes.

As soon as it's over, i quickly wash out my mouth and open the door to the bathroom. Casey is still standing there.

"Are you okay?" she asks. Oh shit, i must be really pale right now. Damn dark circles under my eyes. Damn it i probably look like hell. I don't say anything, just head straight for my room. She stands in my doorway, as if that could keep me from going in. "Wait, i wanted to ask you about what you said earlier. About how i couldn't understand something that made me unhappy if i tried. Tell me what you meant." She looks close to tears now.

"I meant," Wait, why am i actually telling her? "I meant that you have never had to go through something tough with your family. YOUR mom doesn't hate your guts. YOUR dad doesn't yell at you. YOU didn't almost die saving the girl of your dreams, only to never see her again, and WORSE have her not remember EVER DATING HER! You have never told anyone you love them only to have them slip away." She is shocked once again. I wonder how long it will last.

I quickly push past her into my room.

* * *

"You alright, man" Sam asks me the next day at school. It's Monday, which is bad enough. At least it's lunch. Ugh, i knew i'd face the questions. I haven't seen my dad since last night when we had that bad fight. Haven't seen Casey either. I left early for the bus today. "Derek?"

"Huh?" ugh, im confused. My head hurts like hell from nicotine loss.

"i _said_, are you okay?" Sam's looking at me like i'm an idiot or something. What do you think, Sam?

"Nah, i had another yelling match with my dad last night."

"Really? What about?" i can tell he's trying to get answers because i hung up on him so abruptly.

"Um, nothing..." i said, clearing my throat. "Ugh, listen, I'm going to go outside for a little while, i could use some fresh air." And a cigarette...

"Cool, i'll come with you," Sam says . Shit!

"NO!" Sam looks at me funny. "i mean...i should just go alone. Um, see you in math."

I turn around and walk out the school doors. I head around to the back of school parking lot, checking behind me as i go. It would suck to get detention just because i got caught smoking on school property. They'd probably confiscate my cigarettes.

Uh, better just go with straight cigarettes. I pull the pack out. Leaning against the brick wall, i light up. That's when i hear a gasp behind me. A girly gasp. I turn around. I almost dropped my smoke when i saw who it was.

"Fuck!" Apparently i said it loud enough that they realized they had been caught, because they came out.

"Derek.." Sam says. He is looking at the cigarette in my hand like it's going to explode at any second. Being me, i took a puff of it and blew it out, staring at Casey this time. Both her and Sam look shocked.

"Derek, smoking on school property is against the school rul..." She trails off when she sees that i don' t care. "Derek how'd you even get those? We're only 15!" I don't respond. Just stomp the butt into the ground.

"Why didn't you tell me you smoked?" Sam says, looking confused. "I would've helped you quit!" i look at him incredulously. ME, quit smoking? HA! That's like saying i'll quit drugs too.

"Here's a thought," i say, giving a short laugh. "Maybe i don't WANT to quit!" i say this to them like they're stupid. "Listen, unless you want one, you're gonna have to leave me alone." That came out a bit mumbly because i was already lighting up another cigarette. I take a long drag. They just stand there gaping at me like fish out of water. Casey slowly shakes her head and drags Sam away by the arm. He doesn't protest.

* * *

That day after hockey practice I came home. I figure that if i'm going to have to see my dad ever again after the yelling match we had yesterday, it shouldn't matter if he's mad or not. I come in the front door to find Edwin and Lizzie sitting on the couch. Things seem pretty normal. I drop my hockey stuff at the door and head towards the kitchen. I can feel their beady little eyes following. Jeez, can't they fuckin mind their own business. When i get to the kitchen, i find my dad, Nora and Casey all sitting at the table.

"Derek," dad says. His voice sounds strained, like he's trying to hold back anger. Frick...

"Derek I trust you know what this is about." Nora says. I don't say anything. They can't see my face, because my hood is up and my hat is on. I changed into my "regular" clothes at the rink, since I was the last one out.

"Did you know smoking causes lung cancer?" oh great, Casey is going to tell us fun facts about smoking. Joy. "It can kill you."

"So?" i say.

"SO?!" my dad booms. Whoa. Did NOT know he could yell that loud...

"YOU NEED TO STOP SMOKING! I THOUGHT ABBY AND I RAISED YOU BETTER! I-" He cuts himself off as he realizes what he said.

"Yeah," i laugh humourlessly. "You and Mom did a GREAT job of raising me!" I spout off sarcastically. "You know, it's not so much the fact that you were never home. It's just that mom would FRIGGIN HIT ME! Do YOU know what it's like to be three FRICKIN years old and go to the kitchen for a snack and have your mom HIT YOU AND BEAT YOU!? DO YOU?! BECAUSE I DO! MAYBE I HAVE TO SHOW YOU THE SCARS!"

Everyone was silent.

"And now, my own DAD doesn't remember that i almost died in August and have been through HELL since then. Do you know how THAT feels as well?" that felt good to let out. Casey has her hands clasped over her mouth in shock. Nora is just sitting there. My dad is standing across from me, looking livid.

"Mom HIT you?" Edwin asks seriously. Whoa! I didn't even know he was there.

"Yes," i answer without turning around.

"You were ordered never to talk about that," Dad answers. His voice is dangerously low. He only does that when he's really mad. I look at him, from his hands which are clenched in tight fists, to his red face. Fuck...

"Not according to the court," I say angrily.

I don't have much warning before he punches me in the face. I stumble backwards, and fall. I turn mid-fall and crack the side of my head on the side of the table. I vaguely hear screaming, and then i black out. GOD that hurt so bad...


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: So here is instalment number 2!!! Thank you SO MUCH to ****dasey1727,****SlothKeeper, ****and**** melancholyblood**** for your awesome, and encouraging reviews! YOU GUYS ARE THE REASON THAT I WRITE!!! **

**So yay life and all that jazz!**

**Now, without Further ado, I bring you**

**Choices That Change Us**

**Chapter 2 **

When I come to, people are still screaming. Oh, jeez, my head hurts SO BAD! I can vaguely hear sirens through my haze of pain. OW! My dad continues to beat me, kicking my sides. My ribs are getting bruised pretty bad, but they're not broken. I've suffered enough broken bones to know when they are, or are not, broken.

The sirens are getting closer. I can see Nora sitting there, stone faced, doing nothing. Casey is screaming for help. Marti is crying and clutching onto Edwin's leg. I think Lizzie isn't even here today... maybe she's at a friends house...beats me...

"THIS IS THE POLICE! OPEN UP, OR WE WILL COME IN BY FORCE!" a voice booms, I think it's coming from the direction of the front door. My dad makes no move to open it. I think he's still kicking me, or something, but I'm not sure anymore... I've tuned myself out from the pain. There is a loud bang as the police shove open the door.

Two of them have my dad pinned against the wall and cuffed in seconds. He truly looks like a crazy man. His eyes are wild, his hair messed up. His face is bright red from anger. I would find it frightening if I weren't having remembering moments of my mom. She wore that same expression when the police took HER away.

Two paramedics come in and flip me over onto my back. I ended up on my side. They check my pulse and breathing. I can see a stretcher being rolled in with a gurney.

"No..." my voice is out of breath, like I've just run a mile.

"What was that, son?" I wish he wouldn't call me that...

"No... No stretcher..." I say. "Just help me up and I'll.... I'll walk my... myself."

"Alright," One says looking uneasily at the other. He shrugs. There no cloth put on my head to stem the blood flow, so I guess it either stopped, or they're waiting for.... something.

They each take me by the arms, and I put them around their shoulders. We follow the police (who have my dad cuffed and between them) out the door.

"SMEREK!" That yell breaks my heart... A tear threatens to escape my eye. I can't turn around, but I can picture Marti- _Smarti_'s face. No kid should ever have to see their older brother beaten to bleeding point by their father.

I look straight at the ground where my head is angled. I can hear murmers around me and I know that Emily and the rest of the Davidsons' are part of the sea of horrified faces.

It's something I just can't face right now...

************************

When we get to the hospital, they take me into a room. A nurse walks in with an IV.

Oh no... no, no, no!

"No," I say it just as firmly as the last time. If they give me pain medication, they will have to scan me for other things in my system, thus finding out about drugs! See how that works?

The doctor looks at me, the question clear in his eyes.

"Just stitch me up and be done with it," I say through slightly gritted teeth. And stitch me up they do. They also make me take off my shirt so they can examine the bruises. I refuse to look at the damage. It'll just bring on the flash-backs like vomit. The whole time I just lay back on the hospital bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Ok there, Sport, you're all done!" God, what is with it and these fucking doctors and their pet names?!

_I _for one am straight, can't say the same for them though.

I sit up slightly in bed and lean back. The covers are pulled over me and soon after that I drift asleep.

... It's been a fucking long day.

************************

When I wake up it's morning. No shocker there, Shitless Sherlock.

A nurse comes in to check on me and tells me I have a visitor. I have no fucking clue who it is because I figure that Nora won't let the fam see me. But hey! Maybe someone will take the stick out that's shoved up her ass. There's still hope in the Queen Bitch.

Then a lady in her mid-thirties walks in. She is wearing a clean cut pinstripe suit, and her hair long, dark hair is pulled up into a tight bun.

Ha ha, this lady dresses like a...

AW HELL NO!!!

"Hell no..." I whisper, horrified.

"Excuse me?" she asks, one eyebrow raised. I already don't like her. Without waiting for a reply, she continues on. " My name is Andrea **(pronounced An- DRAY- A) **Demopolis, and I am with Social Services. I have been assigned to your case as it has been deemed by the Chief of Police, Officer Roberts, that your home is no longer suitable for you to live in. I will be taking you to live in a foster and or group home." She says this with a straight look on her face.

"W-what? I was expecting to have to go back with Nora... THAT would be better than this... Anything but this... Fuck you..."

Apparently I am rambling on in disbelief out loud, because she responds with a disgusted look on her face. "I am sure we will find you a _decent _home to live in. Your family, more specifically your stepmother, have packed up your belongings in your backpack and duffle bag. They are in the back of my car, and as you are being released today, I will be back here to pick you up in half an hour. Good day." She turns and walks stiffly out the door.

What the hell...

***********************

True to her word, half an hour later, there she is to pick me up. I still haven't looked at my reflection. It can wait a bit until I'm less depressed.

We drive around the shitty areas of downtown (which, incidentally, I am familiar with) until we come to a small house. It's pretty nondescript. It has yellowed siding, and the navy paint on the front door is peeling. The roof is missing half its sand-board shingles.

We get out of the car and walk up to the front door. (as I am being forced to call her)rings the door bell. It is answered by a short, ragged looking woman. She's probably in her mid-forties.

I can hear clanking, crashing, and even fucking screaming from inside! Kids running around inside. Two little kids are part of that noise, a little boy and a little girl. The boy is chasing the girl, trying to pull on her blonde pony tails. Another girl hops around like a frog, even though she's probably about nine.

She reminds me of Marti. A sweep of sadness washes over me and I shove my hands in my pockets and look at the ground.

"Derek?" I can hear Ms. Demopolis asking me. "Deeeerek?" I reluctantly look up. She takes note of my expression mentally, and her hand twitches as though she wants to write something. Ha, probably thinks she's a fucking therapist.

She looks at me weirdly, and I realize I'm chuckling under my breath. Oh well, let 'em think I'm crazy. I don't care! Ya hear?! I DON'T GIVE A FUCKING DAMN! THERE!

"Hello Derek, my name is Sandy. I'm going to be your caregiver." Good she didn't say- "or I guess as you kids call it now a days, you new Foster Mom!" Nevermind.

I glare at her. Her hyper smile falters and she finally stops. Thank god!

She shows me up to my small, hole in the wall room, and I put down my duffel and backpack on the bed. She leaves and I shut the door, pulling out a joint from my pocket as I do (they were already in there from school the other day, and I know that Nora doesn't care enough to actually know what she's packing for me).

I walk across the hall to the bathroom, smoking the joint as I go. Time for that mirror look. I glance up frown. It's worse than I thought it would be, but I guess it's not the worst that could happen.

A scar runs down the length of my face, diagonally. It runs all the way from my right eyebrow, across my nose, and down under my left eye. It is a dark red color, and the stitches have been taken out. They weren't needed for long.

My face is pale and my cheekbones stick out, making the red color of the scar even more prominent. I guess it's a result from not eating much, or not keeping it down I guess. There are dark circles under my eyes. Whether it's from drug use or sleep deprivation, I don't know. I lift up the hem of my loose t-shirt. Dark, angry bruises cover the area. I take a puff of smoke, and stub out the joint with the palm of my hand.

Sometimes life and depression are smudged together. Right now, for example.

All I feel is depression. There is no life left in me. Hmm... Maybe another joint will make me feel better.

************************************

Later that night, I find myself walking down my street and to the alley that I always meet Pete in. It's Sunday and tomorrow, I have to go back to school. **(A/N: I dunno if that's actually right, but if it's not, pretend that I am God and that I can fix time, and control when there is no school ;) kk, back we go!)**

"D!" There he is. "Man I haven't seen you since forever, how's it going?" he asks as we bump fists and start walking to the party. Then he takes a good look at me. "WHOA! Dude holy shit, what happened to your face?!"

"Oh that," I reply nonchalantly. "Nothing really."

"Come on man, cut the bull shit, I know something happened," His face is slightly worried. Despite the scenario, you know with the drug dealing and all, Pete and I have a pretty damn good friendship going on. Just as good, if not better, than my friendship with Sam and Ralph once was.

"Huh," I sigh and rub my hand across my face. I explain about the yelling match and about my mom's abuse. I tell him about how I am in a foster home now, everything. Everything. In return, he tells me about his story. It's something we never really discussed before.

"You know, those aren't my real parents. They're my adoptive parents. My real mom and dad were fucked up, Yo. My dad would get drunk every night and come home and beat the living shit out of me. If I cried, he doubled it. This all started when I was 3. The cops came and caught him when I was 10, but it didn't matter because by then, I had already gone through 7 years of hard core abuse. _7 years. _They raided the house, you know, just for good measure, and they found my mom's drug stash. They arrested her too and so here I am."

We are quiet until we get to the street the party is on, each lost in our thoughts. People stare more than usual when we walk in and a lot of people go quiet as they catch a glimpse of my face.

"What's wrong with your face?!" Some dude shouts. Pete picks him up by the collar.

"You think there's something wrong with his face, boy?" he says threateningly.

"N-no," the guy stutters. What a whimpy ass! Mind you, Pete is quite intimidating... Wait, what the hell? What am I, frigging Oprah?

"Good," Pete says, throws the guy down. He gets off his ass and scampers away. "Anyone else think there's something wrong with my boy D's face?" No one dares respond. We both nod and the party continues like normal.

************************

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

I slam my hand down on my alarm clock. Ugh, school today. I wonder how everyone will take my "transformation".

Instead of pulling out my leather jacket and a polo shirt, I pull out a white long-sleeved shirt. I put a black one with red and silver graffiti on it over that, and pull on a black beanie over my now shaggy skater hair. I look in the mirror, and I see myself. I don't bother trying to hide my scar. The rumours are probably flying around. I wear my mark of pain proudly. It symbolizes the abuse that tore my family apart.

I walk downstairs and into the kitchen. Lily (the little girl who reminds me of Marti) is reaching on her tip toes to try and get down the carton of orange juice. A pair of fuzzy frog eyes rest upon her little brunette head.

"Whoa, hold on a second!" I say, lifting her up. She likes to be independent, but sometimes needs a little help. "There, how's that?"

"Good," she giggles. "Thanks, Derek!" she puts it down on the counter and bounds away. I shake my head. What a weird kid... and yet I find myself getting more and more attached to her with each passing moment.

I go outside and catch my bus just as it pulls up to my stop. I plop down in a seat near the back. There are few people on the bus, and yet I feel like a fucking zoo animal! I glare at them and they look away, pretending they hadn't been looking in the first place. Huh, yeah right.

I sling my backpack over my shoulder and walk into school. People stare at me (again) and at the scar marring my face. I ignore them. They whisper and point but I don't give a shit what they're saying about me. Let them think what they want.

"Derek?" Sam asks in disbelief.

"Sup?" I ask.

"What's with the get-up?"

I glare at him, and he flinches. Sissy. "You, Sammy Boy, are looking at the real me. You know everything I was before? Ya, that was a lie. Had you actually given a fucking damn and cared, you would have known that."

"So...um... I heard what happened over at your house on Saturday," he says scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

"What did you hear?" I ask. I want to know what people are telling other people, who know it from other other people. **(A/N: Props to you guys who got that!) **

"Well, I heard that you and your dad had a big blow up about, you know, your mom and, uh, what happened and that your dad hit you. Emily says she saw you being dragged out by two paramedics, with blood all over your face, while the police arrested your dad," He replies indifferently. I could shoot him right now. But I don't have my gun with me. He doesn't know how lucky he is that I don't have it on me or I swear...

"Is that all you heard?" I ask, wanting to know more.

"Uh, no," he says, awkward now. "I also heard that you got put into a foster home. Casey said that Nora said that it was somewhere downtown."

I turn and look at my locker as I put my books in my backpack.

"I'm, you know, I'm sorry, man," he says. Yeah right, like you mean it dumbass.

"Whatever," I uncaringly throw over my shoulder, as I walk away. I turn back around. "Oh, and you can have my captains position. I won't be needing it since I'm quitting hockey."

Other people heard and I can hear my sneakers squeaking on the floor as I trudge through the shocked crowd to homeroom.

**A/N: So what did ya think? THAT GREEN BUTTON IS GONNA CRY PURPLE COW TEARS IF YOU DO NOT REVIEW SO REVIEW!!!! **

**Don't betray it in such a way...**

**~Alanna XD**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Ok, so here's the third chapter! Whoo I'm on a roll that is like 2 chapters in one day that I've written! Can I get a woot woot??!!**

***silence***

**Nevermind... **

**Disclaimer: A young girl with short cut brunette hair walks into the editing studio, holding a water gun. She points it at the screen of a projector. The producer jumps startled, " who the frick r u?" he asks. "LET ME OWN LIFE WITH DEREK YOU STUPID OLD FART!!" the girl screams. "NO NEVER YOU'LL NEVER GET ME ALIVE!" she screams and runs away as security runs after her.**

**Choices That Change Us**

**Chapter 3**

"Hey D!" I hear a familiar voice call behind me as I walk through the crowd to homeroom.

"What?" I say, surprised when I turn around. "Pete? Man, what the hell are you doing here? I thought you went to Carson?" Carson High is closer to our side of town.

We give each other a little man hug thing, and I can feel everybody's stares burning holes in the back of our heads.

"Nah, I transferred. The 'rents told me I had to stop skipping school, so they decided to put me in a school that actually cared! Apparently this is my adoptive mom's old school and she thinks I'll be better for the sake of her rep or something! Pft, they must underestimate me. I mean, if I ever get pissed off enough, I can just come chill at your house," He says nonchalantly. I grin. This is the Pete I know and love. He glances around us, and upon seeing the stares, his eyes narrow. His hand twitches towards his pocket, where his gun normally resides. I have no idea if it's in there, because his jeans are so baggy.

But knowing Pete, it probably is.

"Pete," I say warningly. He looks seriously at me. I shake my head almost imperceptibly.

He nods and looks towards all the people staring at us, having caught our whole conversation. "Hey, y'all got a problem with me and my boy here talking?" They all shake their heads with wide eyes. Ha ha, just like a flock of sheep. "Well then you best be steppin' on over to class. Go on, GO!" When they don't move, he jumps at the nearest person, a nerdy grade 9 kid. Damn, that kid almost shit his pants he ran away so fast! I chuckle under my breath and walk with P-Dawg to homeroom.

**************************

In my last class of the day, alone in the back(yes I'm still here, I didn't see a point in skipping even when Pete went to get high in the back of the parking lot, thus why I'm alone). The stares have died down, but not from the teachers.

"?" a voice at the doorway says. I turn my head to see the secretary standing at the open door. "You have a visitor."

"SMEREK!" I hear a small voice yell. My face pales and my eyes widen in disbelief. I jump out of my chair like it shocked me and run out the classroom door. As I stumble into the hallway, I can see the small figure of Marti running towards me. She looks happy, but the odd thing is that she's crying.

"Smerek," she sobs into my shoulder as I drop to my knees and hug her tightly. I think there are a few tears rolling down my cheeks, but at this point I just don't care.

I have my Smarti back.

Then a thought comes to me. She's here alone. Without Nora. Or even Edwin or Lizzie.

"Smarti how did you get here?" I ask. She points to a small purple backpack on her back, then latches on like a monkey as I stand up.

"I ran away," she says tearfully. My heart breaks as she looks up into my eyes. We have the same eyes. Chocolate brown, only hers have a few flecks of blue when she's upset. "I love you Smerek." It comes out a bit mumbled as she buries her head in my shoulder again.

I kiss the top of her head and rock her gently as she cries. I sit down with my back against the wall, with my little sister in my lap.

"I love you too, Smarti."

We just sit like that for a few minutes, until her sobs die down to sniffles. I hear a gentle cough and I look up to see the secretary standing there, her face emotionless. Frigid bitch.

A few teachers are looking out their classroom windows to see the commotion. I glare at them and they quickly look away again.

"Smarti," I say gently, tipping her head up so that I can see her. "I'm going to go back in and get my stuff, okay?" She nods. "Wait here and I'll be back in one minute." I give her a quick kiss on the forehead.

When I open the door to the classroom, all eyes are (once again) on me. I can tell I must look like shit. My face is paler than normal and I'm somewhat shocked.

I go over to my desk and start gathering my things up into my backpack.

"Derek, are you alright?" great, Casey just what I need.

"Fuck you Casey," I say, not that quietly. "You and you bitch of a mother can go to hell for all I care. I just wish you wouldn't drag Lizzie down with you. She's a great kid and she deserves better." I've always liked Lizzie. I care for her just like I do Marti. She DOES deserve better. Better than her mom that sits by and lets her "children" be abused, and better than a sister with a messed up brain. A sister who lost all memories of me a long time ago. My anger at her increases as I remember all the pain she's put me through. I send her a scathing glare.

She is still sitting there, stunned, as I sling my backpack onto my shoulder and walk out the door.

I pick Marti up and we walk together out the front doors of the school. I put her down and hold her hand at the bus stop. Her eyelids are drooping and I can tell she's getting tired. I pick her up again as the bus arrives. A sour old lady is sitting there gazing on, disapproval evident in her eyes as I gently put Marti down on the seat and sit down next to her.

She yawns and leans on my shoulder. I put a brotherly arm around her and kiss her on the forehead.

"Smerek?" she asks quietly.

"Yeah, Smarti," I say equally as quietly. The bus isn't busy. It's just me and Marti, the weird old lady and a few other people.

"Where did they take Daddy?" My heart clenches painfully at the question. I'd rather not talk about my dad right now. I wince as my face twinges in pain, along the length of the scar. The old lady is watching us with curiosity now.

"Well, Smarti," I begin, clearing my throat. "Dad did a very bad thing. You remember where I got this?" she nods, tears filling up her eyes as she glances up at the scar across my face. "Well, they took Daddy the same place Mommy is, okay?" I swear that lady is going to fall out of her seat if she leans any more towards us.

"So, Daddy's in jail?" Marti asks quietly. I nod. She seems to accept that and soon after she is falling asleep on my shoulder.

I don't look over at that old lady again. I don't like seeing people pity me.

**A/N: Well, that's all for now, folks! Tune in next time for a new chapter of Choices That Change Us! Sorry this one was so short, but I couldn't think of anything else. =S**

**Luv all you reviewers! *hint hint***

**~Alanna XD**

**PS- L.J. will make an appearance in the next chapter! There might be more Pete, too. I kind of feel like I've strayed away from the whole Derek still loves Casey angst, but I just HAD to re-unite Smarti and Smerek. I couldn't leave them separated. There WILL be more angst and Derek fights in the next one.**

**And there will be Gun shots ringing out. **

**I will say nothing more.... mwah ha ha ha haaaaa! **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: For the record, I'm sort of using things that are similar to Step Up sometimes, but I in NO WAY own Step Up, Life With Derek, or any of the stuff I mentioned in the first chapter that I posted so long ago and that sucked so bad I'm quite happy to be alive, not having been burned at the stake.**

**Choices That Change Us**

**Chapter 4**

As Smarti and I sit on the bus, I keep thinking "what am I going to do with her?" Not in that parental ugh kind of way, but as in where am I going to take her. My dad is in jail, so is my mom. I have no idea what happened to the other kids, I haven't been able to keep contact with them. But I mean it's only been a couple of weeks... or something like that. I dunno, I lost track of time a while ago.

This isn't the first time I've thought about this. I mean, I could do the right thing, and take her back to Nora but... I just don't know if that's the right thing to do. She never did anything to stop my dad from yelling at, punishing and abusing me. Just sat there with that frigid look on her face. Then again, there was that talk that I had with her a little while after she moved in and when I had made one of my rare home appearances...

**FLASHBACK**

I was just walking in the door after a party with Pete, when I saw Nora, my dad's new wife sitting at the table.

"Derek, come in and sit down," she said with an obviously fake smile on her face. I ignored her and started up to my room. "Now Derek!" I flinched. She sounded just like my mom when she said that. I meekly turned around and sat down in the chair across from her. "Good. Now, let's have a little talk, shall we? Good," she continued without waiting for my response. Then her fake smile disappeared off her face as if Houdini himself was doing the trick. She glared at me and once again, I flinched. She was beginning to scare me...

"I know what you did to Casey," she said in a deadly low voice. "You made her fall in a lake and then people thought you were 'rescuing her' when you were just trying to secure her death!" I was too shocked to respond. Why would I want to hurt Casey? Sorry, I should correct myself: Why would I want to hurt the Casey that _I_ know? This 'new Casey' I could care less about.

"W-what?" I finally managed to squeak out (squeak being the key word).

"You heard me!" she yelled flinging her arms out in all directions as she continued to yell at me.

Once again, I was too shocked to say anything. I had never seen this side of Nora...

And I didn't want to ever see it again...

**FLASHBACK**

I know that she hates me because she thinks I hurt Casey, and I guess I can almost understand... oh who am I kidding? I have no fucking clue where she's "coming from" as I myself had never had a real parent. Hell, I've never had a real _cousin!_

Anyways, my point is that she really did like the other kids, so ... I guess I have to take Marti back to her. It's not safe for her to be around me when I'm involved with stuff like drugs.

"Smarti," I whisper shaking her shoulder.

"Yeah Smerek?" she says sleepily.

"We gotta go okay?"

"Where are we going?"

"Um... Look, Marti, this is really hard, but... I have to take you back to Nora." For a second she's silent and looks shocked. For a second I start to think that maybe she'll go along with it but then again-

"No."

-that's not the Marti I know.

"Marti you have to go back, I can't take care of you," I say, on the verge of tears myself. She looks up at me and I can tell she's looking for the real reason in my eyes. She's always done that. She's a smart kid, she really is. I know that right now, she can see the look in my eyes that says _"Just trust me" _and I hope that she goes with it.

"Okay Smerek."

*****************************

It's been a week since I "did the right thing". I'm kind of glad I did because I don't think I would have survived knowing that she was in a foster home, or with me or something like that.

All the hype about my scar and what I've been through has died down. Sam's popularity has skyrocketed, while mine has dropped like a rock in water. It's sunk. Like the Titanic.

All of this is mainly because I ditch a lot, and I hang out with Pete. Our signs of drug use have become evident, and people have seen us smoking, and not just cigarettes either. I was out of stock and was gonna get some more green from Pete, and the principal said he wanted to check my locker. I let him, because I knew that he wasn't going to find anything. Everyone stared as I was led down the hallway by a police officer and Lassiter. I casually leaned against the locker next to mine as they searched it. They seemed baffled when they couldn't find any drugs, but finally gave me the "OK" to go. Ha, as if I need it.

That night I restocked at a party with Pete.

Back to the present day, Pete and I are hitting up a HUGE party about twenty blocks away from our house/apartment things. Don't give me that look I'm not going to call it my home. I have no home.

We're actually on our way to said party right now. We're not far, only a few blocks now. I can hear the music pounding in the distance. The angry rap beats reverberate everywhere. Just as we're cutting down a side alley, someone grabs me from behind.

The said person pins me against the wall, their hands around my neck. I can't breath! Damn fuck fuck shit shit shit shit shit....

There's only one person who dares cross us. The only ones with the balls to do or say anything are-

"Well, if it ain't the D-Dawg himself," I'm cut off by a familiar voice.

"L.J." I choke out attempting to keep my cool. He lets out a wheezy laugh and I can smell his breath on my face.

I hear a click. A click like when someone is loading a gun...

BANG!

As the gun shot rings out I close my eyes and wait for the pain. Instead I hear a strangled cry of pain from my right.

I am dropped, right on my ass. I struggle on the ground to regain my breath through my bruised neck.

"Pete!" I cry but it comes out a bit quiet. I crawl over to where I can see the lone streetlight illuminating a shape. I see a pool of reflective liquid under the shape and I crawl faster.

"D," he says faintly. He's lying on his back with one arm over his stomach. His eyes are glassing over so quickly. The shot hit him right in the upper left area of his chest... Directly over his heart.

"No, no!" I scream, shaking him by the shoulders. "NO! Pete, man get up! GET UP! You-you can't... You can't DIE, man! We're supposed to be the boys from broken homes! Brothers till the end! Man, come on, just wake up and tell me I'm being a cheesy dumb ass. Please! I'll do anything..." I finally fall silent when I realize he's not coming back. I know no one can hear me. We're in a deserted area. Everyone is at the party. There's no way that help will get here in time.

So, that's where my night ended. With me lying in the middle of a deserted alley, next to the body of my best friend, laying in a pool of his blood.

_You're too late_, I keep telling myself.

_You're too late to save him..._

**A/N: see, I told ya that gunshots would ring out and that there would be more LJ and Pete.**

**Oh and**

**DON'T WORRY I'M ALREADY STARTING THE NEXT CHAPTER!!**

**I'll try and have it out by the end of the week, but I have lots of volleyball practice, plus Halloween on Saturday WOOT! And I have to work on Saturday morning. BUT I GET TO WEAR A HIPPIE COSTUME!!! O YA SUCK ON THAT BITCHES! Haha lol! **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Ok, just a couple house keeping things, and then I will get on with the drama I know you're all waiting for:**

**THANK YOU ****MELANCHOLYBLOOD**** FOR BEING THE FUDGING BEST EVER REVIEWER ON THE PLANET! Your reviews always inspire me to write more angsty fun, as well as give me constructive criticism (try saying that ten times fast) so that I can improve my writing.**

**For the record, I am a dumbass. Just though I'd state that...**

**Ok ok on to the chappie!**

**Choices That Change Us**

**Chapter 5**

**By: SuperxXxGirl79 (who is a dumbass)**

When I walk into school a few days after Pete's death, the stares are burning into the back of my head worse than when I walked into school the first day after my dad and I's big blow up.

I pull down the sleeves on my hoodie nervously. Last night I had slit my wrists.

And you know what?

It helps. It helps to see the blood drip from the self-inflicted wounds. The physical slashing feeling is enough to send me into a state of numbness. There is pain, but it feels good. Like I said, it helps.

More than the drugs, more than everything. My life is slowly spiralling downward. I want to stop it all- the drugs, the partying, I really do...

I just don't know how... Plus, the fact that I'm a kid in a foster home where I'm ignored doesn't help either. I have no help from family, and my only friend is dead so...i guess I'm pretty fucking screwed over.

"Hey Derek!" Sam calls snidely from down the hall. Have I mentioned he's become a real ass hole lately? No? Well, I must just have been caught up in the hell that is my life.

I spin around to face him, "What do you want, Sam?" I ask.

"Just wanted to know wh...where..." his voice falters when his gaze lands on my neck. The bruises are in the shape of hands, I know it. L.J's hands. The hands of a murderer. I self-consciously pull my sweatshirt up over my neck. This apparently breaks him out of his little stare fest. His prick-ish attitude returns in a flash. "Just wondering where your friend Pete is. Getting high out back, right?" His posse laughs like the idiots they are.

"Nah, he's not out back," I say nonchalantly. My voice turns cold and I can feel a weight being dropped on my shoulders. "He's dead." They're all silent after I say that.

******************

Right now, I'm sitting on a street corner. It's gotta be like two o'clock in the morning, and it's freezing out. The fact that its cold out is just doubled by the fact that I don't have a coat on. Just my hoodie.

So, I guess the inevitable happened. I got in a fight with my foster mom, and guess what?

She hit me. Hard. She slapped me in the face so hard that I fell to the ground. Her sharp nails then embedded themselves in my neck as she roughly pulled me up and pushed me against a wall, only to continue yelling at me. It's hard for me to deal with, so I did the only rational thing I could do.

I ran.

And ran and ran.

I ran down alleys, side streets, main streets, through traffic... I'm lucky I didn't get hit by a car. Then again, maybe it would be better if I was just a combination of bodily fluids spewed across the pavement. Life wouldn't suck as much that way.

I'm actually not that far from my foster home right now. I had to go back in through my window to get my drugs. I have about a month's stash spread out in front of me.

Glancing around nervously, I pick up a small bag full of the most delicate, white, pure cocaine. It's every druggies dream to get stuff like this. But, looking at the array of syringes, joints, pipes, and small straws spread out before me...

I don't want it anymore.

I want to get _away _from it. I clutch my head as voices fill it;

_You're nothing but a worthless piece of shit!_

_You'll never be anything!_

_Ugh, Derek, you're such a jerk!_

_COWARD!_

_WHY DO YOU EVEN TRY!?_

_WHAT HAPPENED THIS SUMMER?_

The voices get louder and louder, until they are threatening to break through my skull. All the years of abuse, both verbal and physical, are coming together and exploding out of me.

With my hands still covering my ears, I turn my head up towards the sky and cry out. Suddenly, all of my energy is lost. I crumple to the ground and sob.

Feelings are something I rarely allow myself to show.

* * *

When I finally stop sobbing and pull myself together, I pick up all the drugs that I have, and throw them in the nearest dumpster. Taking my lighter from my pocket, I burn some of it on the icy pavement, making a small fire to keep warm. They won't let me back in my foster home.

Maybe this will be my new home...

I can think of a lot of reasons it will be a hell of a lot better than the foster home, but it was nice to be in a place that I didn't have as much of a fear of getting hurt in, you know?

I add a bit more of the drugs to the pile, and then a bit more, until all of it is burning in a fire that will, hopefully, keep me warm all night.

* * *

When I wake up, the first thing I notice is that the fire has gone out. Dammit I'm cold! And hungry, come to think about it. The clothes on my back are literally the only thing I have.

I guess I'll have to tough it out for a while....

* * *

_One Week Later..._

I haven't eaten since the morning of the day I left/got kicked out. I can see all my ribs through the holes in my t-shirt. I haven't resorted to begging, but I do huddle up on a street corner every day. People walk by and see me huddled up. I've officially hit rock bottom. I bet the school has called my foster home. Then again, I skipped so much before I left (was it only a week ago?) that they probably just think I ditched out because of a hangover or something.

My skin has become frightfully pale, and I'm almost covered in dirt and ashes. I sleep so near the fire, hoping that it'll bring more warmth, that I actually have several burns. My face is even uglier than it was before.

I now have the large scar from my father's beating, fading bruises around my neck in the shape of hands, nail marks that are probably infected from the way they looked yesterday in a smudged piece of glass, various nicks and bruises, and, to top it off, I now have painful burns all over the right side of my face and neck.

I can't even imagine how it must look when combined with my dirty and tattered clothing, and the fact that the cuffs of my sleeves are ripped, exposing bruised up arms and long, diagonal scars from the times I have cut myself.

If Pete were here, and in the same situation, I bet we would've worked through it as brothers. That's how it always was with Pete and I.

I tuck my knees up in my chest, wrapping my arms securely around them, and rest my head on them, a few tears leaking out of the eyes I was so hoping would run dry of them. A headache is beginning in the back of my head and I squeeze my eyes shut tighter and take a tight breathe, hoping to block it out.

"Look at that poor boy," I hear an older lady say to her friend. "It's horrible what has happened to this days youth."

Normally I'd be angry at what she said, but today, it just makes me want to crawl up into a hole and die even more.

I jump, startled as I feel a hand on my shoulder. I end up on my elbows and back, scrambling backwards against the wall, trying to get away from whoever wants to hurt me. _PLEASE don't hurt me!!!_

"It's alright, I'm not going to hurt you," my eyes find a woman. She's about in her late thirties or early forties, and has a heart shaped face framed by blunt bangs and red hair cascading down her shoulders to mid-back. Her hand stays on my shoulder, and she gently bends down and starts to talk to me. "I just noticed your situation. Do you have a place to live?"

Hesitantly, I shake my head. Was she offering me a place to stay or something?

"I was on my way to the homeless shelter a few blocks away," I glance at her purse with its shiny buckles and her neat coat and scarf. "I volunteer there twice a week." She says by way of explanation. She stands up fully and I do too, though slower, stopping to steady myself on the wall nearest me.

She notices that I am quite weak and puts an arm around me to gently guide me down the street. People all around us are staring, smiles on their faces and tears in their eyes. After all, a good deed has just been done. And although that's true, it still doesn't solve the homeless-ness issue in North America.

But, I admit I feel...

I feel cared for. And loved. It has been so long since someone has been willing to reach out and put their arm around me. I've become contaminated. And yet, this woman who just met me, doesn't care that I'm filthy. She doesn't care that I'm homeless. She still wants to help me.

As we arrive outside the homeless shelter, she leads me in, much like a real mother would. I am given a clean pair of jeans, a white t-shirt and a thick sweat shirt. They're all kind of beat up, but they're definitely better than what I've got. I mumble a thanks to the lady who looks at me sadly. As I move along the stations I am given a toothbrush, toothpaste, soap, a blanket and any other essentials I need to get me through the day.

I am sent off by the woman who brought me here, to the showers. I stand under the warm blast of water and I feel like I have the potential to be better. To be a good person. But, I'll have to work on it in steps. Like saying thank you to the people at the shelter.

It's a start.

It is amazing how thankful I am as I shuffle down the line of hungry people to receive my meal. When I finish, not a crumb is left on my plate. I smile slightly as the warm food settles in my stomach. The redheaded woman is walking towards me as I look up.

"So, how do you feel?" I can see a tint of worry in her eyes. "My name is Teresa, by the way."

Maybe she was named after Mother Theresa, I think to myself.

"Pardon me?"

Uh oh, I think I said that out loud. "Uhm, I was just thinking that maybe you were named after Mother Theresa. You seem like a saint to me..." I blush and look down at my hands as I say the last part. Maybe being a nice person isn't as hard as I thought. A finger gently tips my chin up to look at her. "Oh, and I'm Derek."

"Well, that's very sweet, Derek," she says, smiling. She searches my face, growing almost worried, before asking suddenly, "How old are you, sweetie?" The "sweetie" part freaks me out, and I think she can tell, because she puts her hand down and leans away a bit.

"Fifteen," I reply. "And to answer your earlier question, about whether I was okay..." I stop, confused at how to put it. I'm definitely NOT okay, but I don't think she wants to hear my whole life story.

"Are you in need of any medical assistance?" Teresa asks, giving me a place to start. I start to answer, but she cuts me off. "You don't need to answer that. I know you do. Follow me this way and we'll get you all fixed up."

As asked, I follow her into an area with cots lining the walls, about two feet away from each other. A variety of people occupy them, and even though it's only about 6:30pm, some are already fast asleep. She leads me to a bed at the very end of the row, away from a lot of the people.

"Why don't you sit down there and tell me where you're hurt."

"Um, I have some burns, on my hands, and the right side of my face and neck," I start, unsure. As I wonder how to explain the rest of them, I decide the truth would be best. It's not like she's going to tell anyone about them. I'd best leave out the drugs though... "And the scars on my face, the big one is old, but the little ones are from last week. I don't know, they might have gotten infected or something, judging by where I was staying."

She writes this down on the pad of paper in front of her and nods. "What else?"

"I have bruises, the worst ones are the ones on my neck, but those are almost healed. My ribs have been hurting for a while, I think I might have broken some and they're still out of place, or something like that. Other than that, I'm fine." I roll my eyes at the doubtful look she gives me. "I actually am fine, besides the stuff that I told you." _Physically, at least..._

She tells me to lay back and take off my sweater and shirt. Upon seeing my heavily scarred wrists, she frowns in my direction. "Derek, do you care to explain this?"

"No," I reply in a choked voice, turning on my side and curling up into a ball facing her. Her stern frown melts into one of concern.

"Derek, explaining it will at least get it off your chest," she says and I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"My best friend died a few weeks ago," I say bluntly, staring past her at the wall on the opposite end of the room. "And that combined with my dad going to jail and..." I trail off, beginning to cry.

"What did your dad go to jail for?"

"Child abuse," I say, barely audible.

"Oh, Derek," Teresa says, in quite a motherly fashion, or at least, what I imagine a motherly fashion would be. She leans down to engulf me in a hug and we sit like that for quite a while.

**A/N: Alright, that's all I could think of, hope you enjoyed it. Sry I was away for so long, my computer had a HUGE virus and I had to get my computer-smart uncle to fix it. Even now, I wrote this like 2 days ago, because I had to fix my INTERNET!!! AAAHHHH!!! The world is a frustrating place.**

**And another matter is the fact that I haven't gotten many reviews. I mean, I shouldn't expect to have hundreds, but over ten would be nice. **

**On another side of things, if you think Derek is too much of a softie from what he started out as, it's because he's been crumbling, and now he's hit rock bottom. I have plans for what is going to happen next, but I appreciate your advice so so so so so so so so so so so so s o so so so so so so so so so s oooooo MUCH! I luv you guys and I would actually give you all hugs if you would review, but considering we all live on different continents and in different countries, you'll have to settle for a virtual hug gift basket.**

**I LOVE ALL YOU REVIEWERS *WINK WINK MELANCHOLYBLOOD, WHO I LUV THE MOST WINK WINK*!!!!!!!!!!!!!! **

**[Subtlety is not my strongest point;)]**

**MWAH! VIRTUAL KISSES! {} {} {} 333!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**

**~Alanna3 (hearts are good. Don't let zombies eat them)**

**PS- I CHANGED THE FIRST CHAPTER A BIT BECAUSE I JUST REALIZED HOW SUCKISHLY IT WAS WRITTEN!!!!! YAY LIFE, THANK YOU VERY MUCH POSSE!!!**


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